


and i will hold on to you

by sameboots



Series: The 'Kiss Me' Series [5]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, First Kiss, New Year's Eve, New Year's Kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:42:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22062751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sameboots/pseuds/sameboots
Summary: A light, fluffy New Year's Eve fic to celebrate the end of a decade.--“Cat,” Brienne says a little desperately. “It’s too--”Her voice catches in her throat when she seeshim. Jaime frickin’ Lannister. Captain of the soccer teamandthe debate team, from the richest family in Westeros, golden and god-like andrealdouchecanoe. Catelyn turns her head to see what caught Brienne’s attention.“Why aretheyhere?” Brienne asks, because where Jaime is, his twin sister can’t be far behind. They’re like the Wonder Twins’ evil doppelgangers.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Series: The 'Kiss Me' Series [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1399945
Comments: 40
Kudos: 386
Collections: Sevenmas & Other Winter Holidays





	and i will hold on to you

**Author's Note:**

> This is unbeta'd, as a warning.
> 
> But I also want to thank every single person that has read, commented, kudos'd and/or recced my fic this year. I still cannot believe what 2019 brought me. Not only in my personal life, but also in my fandom life. I spent so many, many years outside of fandom and truly thought I would never be involved again. I'm delighted I was wrong because this has been such a fulfilling, astonishing year for me, both creatively and because of the friendships I've made through the process.
> 
> I do hope you all enjoy this and that you'll join me in 2020. Maybe I'll crack 300k words next year!
> 
> Title from Taylor Swift's _New Year's Day_

Brienne’s pretty sure that a kiss at midnight on New Year’s is one of those tropes that ends up in a lot of romantic comedies, but isn’t actually that big of a deal. It’s like losing your virginity on prom night. Sure, every single piece of romantic fiction ever written seems to think it’s a thing that happens, but the vast majority of people either don’t do it or don’t make a big deal of it. 

That doesn’t mean she didn’t spend years curled against the arm of her couch, sadly eating snacks as the ball dropped. 

Alone. 

Because even her _dad_ always has a date for New Year’s. 

\--

Brienne’s still not sure how she let Catelyn talk her into attending the Tully’s New Year’s Eve party. Brienne certainly isn't poor, not by any stretch, but she also didn’t grow up with the sort of wealth Catelyn has. The Tully estate has a _name_. 

It's also an _estate_.

Sadly, that’s not an entirely unusual thing in Brienne’s high school. One of her ancestors did have a smaller estate named Evenfall, but at some point in the past two hundred years, one of her other ancestors fell on hard times and sold the property. Still, she has a scholarship to Red Keep Academy for volleyball and there are plenty of looks-related barbs to be thrown before people even get to her dad’s upper middle class tax bracket.

Which is why she still has no idea why she let Cat talk her into coming to the party. Brienne wrangles her mass of muscle and bone into the dress Cat insisted on, paying for it so that Brienne didn’t have a solid objection beyond _please don’t make me wear a dress_. It’s a deep blue sleeveless thing, shiny, and basically the definition of cocktail attire. 

It fits like someone else’s glove.

She’s already uncomfortable and it only gets worse when she arrives and it really sets in that it’s the who’s who of King’s Landing in attendance. 

She’s five seconds away from slinking away when Catelyn spots her, grins broadly, and waves her arm, floating through the ballroom until she’s in front of Brienne. Catelyn pulls her into a hug.

“I can’t believe you came,” she says. 

Brienne’s about to say she can’t either when what comes out of her mouth is, “I can’t do this.”

Catelyn’s smile falls immediately, the corners of her mouth inverting into a frown. 

“Yes, you can,” she says in the same voice she uses with the freshman crew members. 

“Cat,” Brienne says a little desperately. “It’s too--”

Her voice catches in her throat when she sees _him_. Jaime frickin’ Lannister. Captain of the soccer team _and_ the debate team, from the richest family in Westeros, golden and god-like and a _real_ douchecanoe. Catelyn turns her head to see what caught Brienne’s attention. 

“Why are _they_ here?” Brienne asks, because where Jaime is, his twin sister can’t be far behind. They’re like the Wonder Twins’ evil doppelgangers. 

Cat faces her again and shrugs. “You know how it is, you kind of have to invite everyone to this kind of thing.”

“But don’t they throw their _own_ party?” Brienne questions her absently, unable to tear her eyes away from where Jaime’s slouched against a wall. 

“We all switch off,” Catelyn explains. “Last year was their year. Next year it’s up to the Starks to pull something together. Gods, they throw the dullest parties.”

Like a bolt of lightning, Jaime looks at her and their eyes catch. Brienne can feel herself turning a hideous shade of crimson at being caught staring at him. Jaime’s mouth tilts into a teasing half-smile, his eyes glinting. Brienne scowls and turns away from him, stomping toward the long table laden with sweets. 

She’s busy cramming a soothing cheese tart in her mouth when someone sidles up to her.

“Hey.”

She startles and turns, mouth still full of cheese and pastry to find, of course, Jaime standing there, still amused. 

“Good food?” he asks, his voice almost _twinkling_ somehow. 

She stares at him and chews, her mouth so dry she’s genuinely scared she’ll have to spit the now sawdust like tart into her hand. Finally, she swallows the lump, only coughing a little once it’s down. That only makes Jaime’s dimple deepen.

Of course he has dimples.

“It’s fine,” she murmurs. 

They stare at each other for what feels like hours, but she’s _pretty_ sure it’s more like five seconds

“Excuse me,” she says, and backs away from him, bumping into someone who scowls at her. She blinks, frozen, before hurrying through the crowd, trying to get lost in the shuffle.

\--

Brienne’s starting to think Jaime is following her. She’ll finally relax comfortably in a dark corner and he’ll appear before her like a spectre, some funny little quip ready on his tongue. She’ll stammer and stare and mumble something before beating a hasty retreat.

Lather.

Rinse.

Repeat.

In truth, Brienne’s not sure why she doesn’t just leave. Except that it would feel like Jaime won if she does.

And she already agreed to spend the night at Cat’s so she doesn’t have to drive at one in the morning on roads likely filled with intoxicated people.

\--

Someone makes an announcement when there’s only five minutes left until midnight. Brienne swallows thickly and creeps along the wall, looking for the darkest possible corner or alcove. She snags a glass of champagne from a passing tray before tucking into the corner furthest from the balcony. 

She takes a long drink, wrinkling her nose slightly at the dry, acidic taste. 

She bangs her head against the wall behind her when the ten second alert is called out. 

10…

9…

“Hey.”

Brienne’s eyes pop open, her head whipping forward to find Jaime Lannister standing in front of her.

 _Again_.

“What?”

5…

4…

“I --”

3…

2…

“Seriously…”

1…

Jaime Lannister _kisses_ her. 

As the clock strikes midnight and the rest of the ballroom calls out “Happy New Year’s!” and, she assumes, kisses to ring in the new year, Jaime Lannister is busy pressing his lips to hers.

His.

Lips.

To.

Hers.

It takes her a good ten seconds to even realize what’s happening. She doesn’t really comprehend until the champagne flute slips from her fingers, shattering on the marble floors.

That noise has her pressing her palms flat against his chest, _ignoring_ how firm it is, and shoving him off. 

“What in all seven hells are you _doing_?” she asks him, her breath heaving as if she’s run a mile. 

“I’ve been trying to talk to you all night, but you keep running away,” he says, frustrated enough that she expects him to stomp his foot. “I’ve _been_ trying to tell you for weeks.”

“ _What_?” She hates how sharp and nearly _shrill_ her voice is, but by all the gods...

“That I like you!” he nearly shouts. 

She recoils, glancing around the room furtively to find Cersei or Ron or some other asshole ready to point and laugh or take a video and upload it to social media: _Brienne the Beast actually thinks the Golden God would kiss her!!!!!!!_

“No,” she says, shaking her head. “You don’t. I knew you were a jerk, but trying to trick me like this is _mean_.”

“I’m not kidding,” he insists. “I would’ve told you somewhere else, but you disappear every time I get near you.”

Brienne hesitates. He just looks so _sincere_. But...it just can’t be. He’s _Jaime Lannister_. He’s _beautiful_. He might be more beautiful than his egregiously attractive sister. 

“ _Why_?” is the only thing she can think to ask. 

“I don’t know.” He looks away from her and shifts uncomfortably. When he meets her eyes again, she’s pretty sure he’s blushing a little. “You’re just … you’re really nice.”

Even though she didn’t believe him, the humiliation that he can’t even think of a reason someone like him would like someone like her is brutal. 

“I need to go,” she says, crossing her arms protectively across her stomach. 

He doesn’t move. He just stands there and stares, his lips tensing and parting like he’s trying to think of something to keep her there.

“Look, tell your friends I believed you or whatever,” she says miserably. “But it’s literally painful to see you try to dig up some believable reason you would be into me. It’s cool. It’s not like it would be anything new if your friends think I’m pathetic.”

“Gods. _Fine_.” He rakes a hand through his hair. If she were a silly girl, she would think it trembled slightly. “You have the most amazing eyes I’ve ever seen. Your lips are extremely... _enticing_? You _are_ extremely nice, kind, sweet, whatever word you want, and _yes_ , that’s attractive. I had to stop coming to the volleyball games even though my cousin plays because whenever you spike the ball, your ass and thighs and arms are just--I’m not thirteen, it’s unacceptable for me to get a public boner. You--”

“Stop,” Brienne says, holding up a hand. Her heart is racing so fast she’s worried she might faint, her entire body feels flushed, her hands shake, and when she pulls her lower lip between her teeth, Jaime’s eyes go to it. For the first time Brienne knows what the books mean about heat flaring in someone’s eyes. “You’re serious.”

It’s more of a statement than a question, but Jaime still says, “Yes."

“Holy shit.”

Jaime laughs. It isn’t mean or taunting. He sounds genuinely amused and the smile he gives her is happy if not a bit embarrassed. 

Jaime Lannister is _embarrassed_. Because he _likes_ her. And he had to explain it. And she gave him a boner. _Him_.

She’s still staring at him trying to process the overwhelming _what_ of it all when he shifts just a little closer and asks, “Can I kiss you again?”

She blinks. Several times. 

“ _Duh_ ,” she says vehemently. 

His laughter vibrates against her lips when he kisses her again. 

She sighs happily and lets him press her into the wall a bit and for the first time in her memory, even if just for a moment, Brienne Tarth doesn’t care one bit if people stare. 


End file.
